The Poodle of Blood
by Muffinzelda
Summary: Lace, fine-dining, and Robbie Lewis- only a murder could tie this package together. Dear readers, can you do a bad French accent in your head as you read the witness interviews? Merci, et bonne lecture!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- This work is for fan purposes only. The characters and overarching plot belong to their respective owners (not me!) and are used here without permission. Enjoy!

* * *

Inspector Robbie Lewis looked at his watch, took a deep breath, and then pushed open the door to the bridal boutique. So many gowns! Lewis floated adrift in a sea of lace and tulle until Dr. Hobson called out to him.

"I expected you about half an hour ago," she admonished. Lewis looked down, and there she was, eyes sparkling as they did whenever she teased him. Hobson's white scene suit had camouflaged her perfectly into the myriad shades of white, ivory, and champagne. Lewis thought wistfully for a moment that he would rather see Laura Hobson on a pedestal trying on dresses than see her on the floor hovering over a dead body. But such was his lot.

"You know, Dr Hobson," Lewis began, "if you wanted to drag me out to a bridal boutique, you didn't have to stage a murder…"

"Don't be daft, Lewis. No one is forcing you down the aisle any time soon."

"I think he'd go willingly, doctor." Sergeant Maddox interjected and was met by a bemused look from Hobson.

"Shouldn't you be working with Inspector Hathaway?" Hobson asked Maddox.

"He's working on a drugs case and is still rubbish at delegating. So I find myself as Lewis' bagman, or bagwoman, as it were."

"Anyway, what have we got, Sergeant?" Lewis asked.

"Twenty-five year old Anne-Sophie Lambert. Belgian graduate student living in Oxford," Sergeant Maddox said.

"She's been stabbed multiple times, sometime late last night," Hobson chimed in.

"Sir, over there is the boutique owner, Laetitia Descombes. Also a French speaking Belgian- apparently she and Anne-Sophie were friends. We should have a chat when she has calmed down. Lewis looked to the corner where PC Lockhart was listening to Ms Descombes cry.

"…the poodle of blood!"

"Poodle? Do we suspect the Hound of the Baskervilles?" Lewis asked Maddox.

"No sir, she means puddle. She had a bit of shock, to open the boutique this morning only to find her friend lying in… a poodle of blood," said Maddox, trying on a French accent.

"Who do you think you are, Maddox? Hercule bloody Poirot?"

"Who?

"Never mind."

* * *

When Lewis and Maddox were done consulting with Hobson and the SOCOs, they were able to interview Laetitia Descombes. Lewis let Maddox take the lead with the questions.

"Did Anne-Sophie work here?"

"No, she was a client."

"So how is it that Anne-Sophie came to be in the bridal shop so late at night?"

"She… was coming in for alterations."

"You offer midnight alterations? Is your seamstress moonlighting?"

"No, I do most of the alterations myself. Anne-So is my friend, so I was doing it to help her out. She and I had made arrangements to meet last night but I received a text message from her cancelling our appointment. So I didn't come back to the shop until morning."

Lewis nodded to Maddox who understood that to mean 'trace the mobile.'

"Would you happen to have contact information for Anne-Sophie's fiancé?"

Laetitia Descombes hesitated before speaking. "Yes, he's actually my brother." She went on to explain that Sébastien Descombes was a successful restauranteur and that la Brasserie Belge had recently merited three Michelin stars.

"Why the hesitation before answering, ma'am?"

"Well, I don't want to cause him any undue stress with a police investigation. I rang him right after the police, and he's gutted of course. But he's so busy trying to open a second restaurant… I don't want him to lose focus."

"And grieving his fiancée would constitute losing focus," Lewis interrupted.

Laetitia Descombes just stared back at him, so Lewis just stared back.

Maddox picked up her line of questions again. "There is no sign of a forced entry, so we will need a list of everyone who had access to the boutique last night."

"Of course," Laetitia said. "I wouldn't want to speculate or make trouble for anyone, but…"

"Go ahead."

"Sébastien's his ex-wife Dorothy used to work here. She's from Oxford, and that's why he settled here- and I followed- twenty years ago. But the marriage fell apart. It was an ugly divorce and she couldn't stand to be replaced by someone nearly half her age. In truth, Anne-So is closer in age to my nephews than my brother, but she and Sébastien are in love. Dorothy's quite bitter about the whole affair, but I can't imagine that she would kill anyone. All the same, maybe you should start there, Inspector."

"Dorothy still had access to the boutique?"

"I think that Sébastien's affair took her by surprise, and when she found out she cut all ties to our family. She just stopped coming to work, and I never got the keys back. There were other things to think of, you see."

"Thanks. If you happen to think of anything else…" and Maddox handed her a card.


	2. Chapter 2

Lewis and Maddox tried unsuccessfully to locate Sébastien Descombes, so they settled for sandwiches and a pint to take stock of the situation. It was as his sister had said. Sébastien tended to sleep late after hot nights in the kitchen and once up was constantly on the go from farm to vendor to decorator, arranging the contracts for his new restaurant. His staff assured them that he would be at la Brasserie Belge for the dinner hour.

"I know that some people throw themselves into their work when they grieve…" Maddox started, as Lewis cut her off.

"But you would think that he would also want to do anything to help the police find the bastard who did this to the woman he loved," Lewis said. "I know I did."

Lewis looked a little misty for a moment and then shook it off when Maddox put her arm on his shoulder.

"Sod him. I think I need to take Dr Hobson for a romantic dinner at a certain three star Michelin restaurant."

Lewis' mobile chirped. "Speak of the Devil, my lady beckons. Post-mortem time," Lewis said with a smile.

"Sir, you are the only copper I know who looks happy to go to the mortuary."

"Quite. In the meanwhile, try to track down the other people on the list that Laetitia Descombes gave you. And get on to Gurdip about the CCTV in the street. See if he's found anything useful. We'll reconvene to talk to Dorothy Descombes together after I check in with Hobson."

* * *

Lewis left a take-away coffee in Hobson's office before entering the room where Hobson was finishing up with the corpse.

Hobson got straight to the point. "It's as we thought, Robbie. Anne-Sophie Lambert died from her stab wounds with what I would speculate is a chef's knife. Time of death would be around 11 o'clock last night. If I had to guess I would say that she knew her attacker because there are no signs of a struggle."

"Aye. It's likely that the attacker let her in to the boutique as it was otherwise locked." But Lewis' mind wasn't totally on the case. "Laura, I was thinking about dinner…"

"One more thing, Robbie, before you give in to your biological needs," Hobson said with a smirk. "Anne-Sophie was pregnant."

"Hmph. How far gone?"

"13 weeks, I'd say."

"That explains the midnight dress alterations. She didn't want anyone to know that she was getting a little thick around the middle. But someone did know. Anne-Sophie was about to become a wife and mother, and someone didn't want that to happen." Lewis now looked grumpy.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. I'm done now, though. Were you saying something about dinner?"

"There's a Belgian place that I'd like to try tonight, if that's ok."

"Waffles for dinner, Robbie?" Hobson looked sceptical.

"No, I hear that La Brasserie Belge is quite good."

"So this is part of the investigation, and not you wanting to take me out on the town."

"Fringe benefit?" Lewis asked, leaning in for a kiss. Hobson accepted his advance, all the while raising her still gloved hands away from Lewis.

"Am I to meet you there or will you come home first?" she asked.

Lewis had a look of consternation on his face.

"Fine, Robbie. I'll see you there."

After Lewis left to go meet Maddox, Hobson returned to her office. She was a little miffed that Lewis' romantic dinner plans were work related. There she found a coffee in an insulated take-away mug along with a post-it note marked "XOXO." She decided that Lewis wasn't so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Lewis and Maddox caught up with Dorothy Descombes, the ex-wife and ex-bridal boutique employee, at her home. As they approached the house, they saw a poodle glaring at them from an upstairs window. They knocked at the door which was opened by Dorothy, who wore a nurse's uniform and sensible shoes.

"I had trained as a nurse back before I met Sébastien. He swept me off my feet and the rest is history. After the children started school, I went to work in his sister's shop. You've got to dress all posh in the boutique to make sales, and I was still a pretty little thing back then. Now look at me. It's not pretty, but I'm happier making my own way," she said a bit defensively.

"Me daughter's a nurse too. I think it's a noble profession," affirmed Lewis, disarming her with his everyman charm so that he could ask the necessary question.

"Can you account for your whereabouts on the night Anne-Sophie was murdered?"

"No, I was home alone. Not exactly, though, was I? My son Julien was there, but he was stoned out of his mind. Probably shouldn't admit that to the police."

"Don't worry; that's not my concern," Lewis offered. "Did you know that Anne-Sophie was pregnant?"

"Was she? No, I didn't know. But that explains why Sébastien was going to marry her. I was wondering about that, given that home life made him so miserable."

Lewis looked at her, beseeching an explanation.

"We were happy for a time, and then the children came. We have two boys. They both struggled in school and were difficult at home. Sébastien couldn't cope with them, and he started spending less and less time at home. Julien, our oldest, was hoping to be a professional footballer until he injured himself pretty badly. He started the marijuana after that. I hope it's just a phase. Antoine, our younger son, has always been more of a handful. But I'm sure you already know that, as he's had a few run ins with your lot. He's harmless, though. Just a bit of a little thief."

Lewis nodded as if he had known that the son had form. Maddox knew she'd be checking that out momentarily.

"Does Sébastien have contact with the boys- young men, as it were?"

"Yes, they both work in his restaurant, waiting tables or washing dishes- whatever needs doing. But the cooking he leaves to himself or his sous-chefs. I hope that one day Sébastien will involve the boys in the business aspect of the restaurant. I just don't know what their futures hold if not."

"I think that all parents feel that way some times," said Lewis. "I had a bit of trouble with me own boy, back in the day, but he came out all right in the end."

"You're very understanding for a policeman," Dorothy said. "I'm afraid I've got to go work my shift now, though. "

"One last question, ma'am. Do you think that your ex-husband could have killed Anne-Sophie, if he was as miserable as you say being part of a family?"

"I honestly don't know. He certainly had a temper with the boys, and he was a cheating and deceitful bastard. But he wasn't violent- not like that. I don't know how it was with Anne-Sophie."

* * *

Laura Hobson was on her second raspberry lambic when Lewis arrived at la Brasserie Belge. "I'm sorry, love. Maddox and I got caught up in the case."

"I know, Robbie. Lizzie sent a very apologetic text." Hobson said, rolling her eyes a bit at Lewis.

"Thoughtful sergeant she is, our Lizzie. I am sorry to make you wait though. You look lovely. Can I get us a bottle?"

"Mmm, let's stick to the beer tonight, Robbie. It's quite good. I was just sitting here reminiscing about a trip I once took to Bruges with my girlfriends from uni." Lewis sat back and smiled; he much preferred beer to wine anyway. Hobson rambled on for a bit about scenic canals and wanting to travel with him. This was perhaps what he loved best about Hobson: she always had plans for him, even if they didn't always come to fruition.

Lewis looked over the menu. "Crikey, at these prices, this better be the best damn moules-frites I've ever had in my life."

"Of course you would go for the main course that comes with chips," Hobson teased.

"What, it's a Belgian specialty!" said Lewis in mock indignation.

Hobson herself enjoyed a carbonnade which she got Lewis to try as well. The two of them appreciated the time away from the case- and any night that they didn't have to cook. "We should do this more often, Robbie." Hobson said as she brushed his leg gently with her feet under the table.

"I agree, love." He caught the server's eye, though, and apologized to Hobson. "I'm sorry, love. You know what I have to do."

The server approached and Lewis ordered coffee and speculoos for them, then made a request. "I need to see Sébastien Descombes. I was assured he'd be here tonight."

"Monsieur Descombes is incredibly busy," said the server.

Lewis took out his badge. "I'm afraid it's quite important." The server nodded and hurried off.

When Sébastien Descombes approached the table, Lewis motioned for him to sit down.

"I'm DI Lewis and this is…"

Descombes interrupted. "And you're going to insult me with your questions in front of your…"

But Lewis cut him off in turn. "The forensic pathologist, Dr. Hobson. She attended Anne-Sophie's death."

Hobson did not like to be belittled. "Have you noticed any knives gone missing from your kitchen? I have examined her stab wounds and would expect the murder weapon to be a professional grade chef's blade."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Descombes said, and reluctantly took a seat. "No, to answer your question. I haven't noticed any missing knives. But I haven't been counting them either." Hobson raised her eyebrows. She decided that she liked interrogating suspects, if only to make them squirm. _Maybe I should tag along on Robbie's investigations more often…_

Lewis asked him all the whens and wheres, which Descombes answered with contempt.

Lewis continued to dig at him. "You must have been happy that Anne-Sophie was expecting?" It was a statement that turned into a question.

Descombes scowled. "How would you like it if your much younger… forensic pathologist or whatever you call your significant other… fell pregnant, long after you thought those days were past? "

Hobson interjected, "That would never happen because as a medical professional I take contraception seriously." Her tone was offended, but secretly she enjoyed the comparison to the nubile twenty-five year old student.

Lewis refocused the conversation. "You haven't answered my question."

"Overjoyed isn't the word," Descombes admitted, "but I certainly wouldn't kill her. Do you know how much money I've already plunked down towards this wedding?"

"I'm not convinced that you loved her at all, let alone loved her enough to spend the rest of your life with her." Lewis intimated.

Descombes was piqued. "I want you to leave my restaurant tout de suite."

"When I am done with my biscuit," replied Lewis, and he took a bite from his speculoos.

"You cheeky sod," Hobson chuckled after Descombes had walked away.

* * *

Lewis let go of Hobson's hand just long enough to turn the key to their home. Once the door was shut, Hobson turned to Lewis and started to undo his tie. He kissed her, and his hands began to caress her form.

"Before you get too carried away, Robbie, I'd rather like a neck and shoulder rub," Hobson said whilst leading him by the tie to the couch. "I've spent all day hunched over a mangled corpse."

"Mmm," moaned Lewis, as if the mention of 'mangled corpse' might be an aphrodisiac. "I think I can do that."

Hobson sat between his legs and he began to rub her shoulders, planting a kiss or two on her neck as well. She unbuttoned her blouse then leaned forward to remove it. Lewis was as excited as ever to knead her warm flesh in his palms. He sighed deeply thinking about what should come next.

But what came next was a call to Lewis' mobile. He tilted his waist forward to extract the mobile from his pocket, and then threw it across the room.


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later, Lewis and Hobson were wrapped up in a blanket, still on the couch. At a certain point Hobson, ever the realist, said to Lewis, "shouldn't you see who rang your mobile?"

"I suppose you're right, love."

"I always am."

Lewis crossed the room to retrieve his mobile. "Bloody hell, it was Lizzie. And James to boot!" He pulled on his clothes as he listened to the voicemails.

"Get this," Lewis said to Hobson. "After we left the restaurant, Sébastien Descombes got in touch with the station."

"To complain about your cheek?"

"No, according to Lizzie, one of his knives was missing after all."

"And what did James have to say?"

"He didn't say much, just asked me to ring him back." Lewis punched a button to summon his erstwhile sergeant.

"James, sorry I missed your call."

"No worries, I rang Maddox. I think I have a lead in your murder investigation. In any case, there's someone I think you should meet down at the station."

* * *

Lewis met Hathaway on the translucent side of the one-way glass that overlooked an interrogation room. Maddox was on the inside taking a statement from one Julien Descombes.

Hathaway explained the situation to Lewis. "You know how I've been doing more drugs cases as of late? As part of my community outreach, I met with some substance abuse groups. Julien Descombes was in a group whose mission is to develop other coping skills to alleviate the need for marijuana. He kept my card in case he ever needed it, and it may have come in handy."

"What does Julien have to say?"

"That he is not his brother's keeper, but that he is quite concerned. His brother has been awful moody and secretive since the murder of their father's girlfriend. Julien doesn't have proof that Antoine was involved, but he is actually worried about sharing a home with him. Julien seems reasonable enough, despite the weed."

"Does Maddox have enough to get a warrant to search the house?"

"Probably not."

"Well, we'll just have to go over there and interview Antoine next."

* * *

Lewis and Maddox made their way back to the home of Dorothy Descombes, where her sons Julien and Antoine also resided. The poodle yipped and leapt at their legs as they entered. Dorothy sent the poodle outside and made some tea while Antoine took his time coming downstairs.

The lad was certainly nervous as Lewis asked him some increasingly personal questions, but Antoine continued to provide plausibly innocent answers. Dorothy was getting agitated as well, as any mother should when her son is being questioned by police.

Maddox stood up and raised her phone to her ear. Lewis heard her say, "hey, Gurdip…" as she disappeared from view.

Lewis was thinking that he needed to get the mother back on his side. He looked at the window. "You have a lovely garden." From the corner of his eye, he saw the poodle digging voraciously in a patch of land. "Looks like your poodle is onto something."

"Mum, would you get the dog in, please."

"Why do you want the dog to stop digging, Antoine?" Lewis asked, but Antoine had no answer.

"The boys help out tending the plants. He just doesn't want to see their hard work disturbed, of course." Dorothy rationalized.

Maddox came back into the room. "Dorothy, can you tell me why the last known signal from Anne-Sophie's mobile phone came from this very house? Did you have a confrontation and then decide to kill her? You swiped her phone and sent the text to Laetitia cancelling their appointment, then showed up yourself in order to kill her." Maddox was quite clever to make Antoine think that his mother was the suspect.

Maddox was of course correct, but it was Antoine- not Dorothy. Lewis was happy to play along, fiercely reinforcing Maddox's interrogation of Dorothy. Finally, Antoine caved in and spoke up to clear his mother.

Antoine blurted out, "I stole Anne-So's phone. I just wanted to pick her pocket because… I hate her so much. And then I started snooping inside her phone. Her messages, her calendar… Mum, she was pregnant. Dad can't stand us as it is- but if they have a baby I'd be completely replaced and left out of the family and the restaurant business."

"Antoine, did you have access to the bridal boutique?" Lewis asked.

"I've helped my aunt with deliveries on occasion," he nodded. "I just wanted to scare her… but Anne-So started mocking me..."

"I don't think you should say anything else without a lawyer, son." Dorothy stepped in.

"Fair enough. We'll bring Antoine down to the station and your lawyer can meet us there." Lewis said. Maddox took the young man into custody.

On his way back to the car, Lewis made a detour into the garden where the poodle was digging up a bloodied chef's knife. _SOCO is never going to believe this_, he thought.

"Guess what, Lizzie?" He said when he went back to the car to get some gloves and an evidence bag to retrieve the weapon from the dog. "It was the poodle of blood after all."


	5. Chapter 5

Lewis and Hobson had invited the 'kids' Lizzie, Tony and James over for dinner and drinks after the case was wrapped up. Maddox and Hathaway were having a good snoop around the Lewis-Hobson home while their hosts were in the kitchen.

When Lewis came back to the living room to fill their wine glasses, Hathaway had a smug grin on his face. "Did this case at the bridal boutique give you any ideas, Robbie?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, James."

"No? Just Hobson then." Hathaway looked extra-smug when he was being cryptic.

"Am I supposed to be getting on with something?" Lewis asked.

Hathaway pointed at the magazine rack next to the couch. "The evidence," he said, pulling out a bridal magazine from the front, "is hiding in plain sight." Hathaway opened the magazine and started leafing through the pages. "Fascinating reading, Robbie."

"I saw Dr Hobson surreptitiously swipe it from the crime scene, as a matter of fact," said Maddox. "Although to be fair- she didn't steal anything. They are free magazines. All the pretty pictures of dresses and cakes and reception halls are adverts."

Lewis went a little pale when he realized what his friends were implying. He waved for them to put away the magazine as Hobson called him back to the kitchen.

* * *

Later that evening when the 'kids' had gone home and the dishes had been done, Lewis and Hobson settled down on the couch. "When were you going to share this with me?" Lewis asked her, showing her the bridal magazine. Hobson blushed a little but didn't say anything. "Let me guess, it's for a friend?"

"No, Robbie. I've been having a think," she said, imitating his mannerism.

"Ah?" the Inspector raised his eyebrow.

"Marry me, Robbie."

"But you don't want that, Laura. We discussed it ages ago. You said you're happy with a domestic partnership." Then Lewis thought back to the case. "Good God, we're not expecting any more little Lewises are we?"

"No! Only your grandchildren who really ought to visit more often!" Hobson laughed. "It's just different now, Robbie. We've grown together in a way I never imagined possible. I need you, and you need me. We love each other, so why not make it official?"

Robbie Lewis promptly dropped to one knee and asked Laura Hobson the most important question of all.

* * *

Author Note: Happy Belated Valentine's Day, Robson fans! I tried to have this ready for the day itself, but my hands have been full. We recently had twin mini-muffins (one strawberry, one blueberry) who are enjoying a Lewis re-watch during my maternity leave! I'm glad that the Lewis saga withstands the test of time.


End file.
